


The Empty Frame

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Eloped?! [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Draco gets so flustered he can't stop saying bloody, M/M, Sappy Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: Nine years after accidentally eloping, Draco and Harry find out their marriage is valid after all. Draco does not take the news well...





	The Empty Frame

Draco sat with his parents in a light and airy parlor in the Manor. Around the same elegant glass and polished wood table sat Astoria Greengrass, her parents, and a pair of lawyers for each family. House elves served them all a lightly alcoholic beverage that was a little bit sweet balanced out with a little bit spicy.

“Excellent!” Lucius exclaimed with a well pleased smirk – referring to the reason for the celebratory drinks.

“Now that the prenuptial agreement is hammered out to everyone's satisfaction, all you have to do is sign it, my dear,” Mr. Greengrass explained to his daughter as if she were too simple to grasp this concept on her own. 

Astoria very admirably refrained from glaring at him. Instead, she picked up the gorgeous quill made from an albino peacock feather, dipped the tip in a bottle of magically enhanced ink, and signed the contract. Her signature was a beautifully flowing script that looked every bit as graceful and refined as she was.

With a smile at her, Draco took the quill, dipped it in the ink, and signed his name. To his consternation, the signature disappeared the very instant that he finished it. With a puzzled frown, he tried again. Same as the first time, it vanished. Confused, he looked up at his family's lawyers.

“Why is it doing that?”

Everyone who wasn't a law expert was looking between him and the lawyers in an equal amount of confusion. His lawyers exchanged a significant look. The one who apparently lost the silent argument sighed and gestured to the legal document.

“Young Master Malfoy, this is a magically binding agreement. As such, _you_ must be free to enter into this arrangement. Since your signature will not remain on the contract, it means that you are not free to agree to marry Miss Greengrass – and thus you must either be married or have a magically binding signed promise to marry someone else.”

Draco stared at him with his head tilted and an expression very similar to the one Gregory Goyle had worn whenever he was in class or trying to do his homework. “Er... Don't you think I'd  _know_ if I was engaged to someone else?”

“Yes,” the lawyer stated with a nod.

Draco made a gesture as if inviting the man to elaborate – his face announced that he felt the man must be a blithering idiot.

“You mean you honestly don't know?” The other lawyer asked curiously.

Draco waved his hand around palm up to indicate everyone in the room. “Would I be here – would I have allowed everyone else to come here – if I  _knew_ I was engaged to someone else?”

“I suppose not...”

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a baffled look. “Well, we certainly didn't betroth our son to anyone without his consent or knowledge.”

The lawyers exchanged another look. “Well, if no one present knows... I suppose that we can request a copy of the binding document.”

“Please do,” Narcissa insisted with an strained smile.

The senior lawyer – who had more clearance in these matters – closed his eyes and focused for a moment before casting a spell to summon a copy of the necessary document. As was his duty, he read it to be certain that it was the relevant document before handing it over. However, he was so incredulous that he literally goggled at it (highly unprofessionally) for a long moment before his junior partner finally snatched the paper away from him. This resulted in the second lawyer gaping in gobsmacked astonishment as the first lawyer stared at Draco and tried to remember how to speak. His mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“What?” Draco demanded, bristling defensively.

Neither lawyer had the wherewithal to answer, so Draco leaned over and snatched the parchment from them. Then it was his turn to gape in utter shock. He scrambled to stand up from his chair so hastily that the chair fell over with a loud clatter.

“ _What the buggering hell?! This is not bloody possible!_ ” He clenched the crumpled up parchment in his fist so hard that no one could have pried it from him if they tried.

“What is it?” Narcissa asked in concern, exchanging a worried look with her husband.

But Draco was glaring at his lawyers. “Explain how this is  _possible_ ,” he demanded, firmly pushing the pointer finger of his free hand into the table.

“I should think that would be obvious,” the senior partner blurted out, still flustered.

“I was bloody _sixteen_ , not of bloody legal age! This bloody well should not be valid!” Draco protested, obviously highly flustered himself.

Slowly calming down, the senior partner spread his hands wide as if gesturing for Draco to quiet down without actually daring to tell the only Heir of such a wealthy family what to do. “According to the official seal, the document was filed in Gretna Green, which is in Scotland, and  _there,_ the legal age is – in fact – sixteen.”

“For muggles!” Draco protested in alarm.

“For witches and wizards too if performed by someone qualified,” he informed Draco in a grave tone. “Which obviously, this was.”

“But! But!” Draco ran a hand through his hair in agitation and abruptly turned to pace the room. “Bloody hell! This _can't_ be possible!”

When no actual information came from Draco, his parents turned piercing stares on their lawyers. “Perhaps you could explain this to us?”

The lawyers exchanged yet another look, and then glanced at Draco. Legally, they couldn't break his confidence without permission. And yet, it was Lucius that was actually paying them. Both sighed in frustration and defeat.

“It seems that young Master Malfoy eloped to Gretna Green when he was sixteen.”

“WHAT?!” Lucius and Narcissa blurted out incredulously.

“ELOPED?!”

“WITH WHOM?!”

“No!” Draco roared. “I will deal with this! There is _no way_ he'll want to remain married to me once he learns about this!”

“ _HE_?!”

Rather than answer, Draco turned in his pacing toward the exit to the room. “I said I'll deal with it!” Without another word, he Disapparated.

Try as they might, neither Lucius nor Narcissa could pry the name from their lawyers. Meanwhile, the Greengrasses and their lawyers were all pressing their lips together in suppressed amusement at the scandal.

 

***

 

Draco stormed through the Ministry. For the first time ever, he was glad that Harry bloody Potter had decided to become an Auror. Otherwise, Draco would have no idea where he lived or how to find him.

When he reached level two, he exited the lift and glared at his surroundings, intimidating the few people already in the corridor. Those who got off the lift with him stayed well back as he determinedly strode to the corner, rounded it, and passed through a pair of heavy oak doors into a room filled with cubicles. The room was rather cheery and boisterous but gradually fell silent as people spotted Draco and – despite being seasoned Aurors – were highly tempted to scurry off to the loo to hide until he was gone.

Draco read all the nameplates as he stalked along until he found that one of the actual offices belonged to Harry. Because of course, a twenty five year old who had only been an actual Auror for perhaps three or four years  _naturally_ had the seniority to merit his own office. Draco growled as he headed toward the office – which was open to reveal Harry sitting behind his desk and frowning at the paperwork he was filling out.

Without so much as a knock or a by your leave, Draco entered the office and slapped the parchment onto the desk. Harry looked at the hand covered parchment for a moment before looking up to find Draco leaned over and trying to burn holes in him with his eyes. This took him by surprise enough that he opened his mouth but no sound came out.

“I. Want. A. Divorce,” Draco growled softly enough that no one other than Harry should hear him without pressing their ears into the open doorway.

“You _what_?!” Harry blurted out in surprise.

Draco looked over his shoulder to find that – exactly as he suspected – everyone was trying to creep closer to listen in. He turned back to Harry and gave him a pointed look.

“Shall I say it louder? Perhaps give everyone on this level an earful?”

Harry eyed the parchment again, taking note of the seal and slowly looking like he understood what was going on. After a long and heavy silence, Harry looked up at Draco.

“I thought you said it wasn't valid.”

Draco sort of half looked at the open door for a moment before murmuring. “I didn't think it was. So, imagine my surprise when my lawyers assured me that it is.”

Harry rested his elbows on his desk, linked his fingers together, and then rested his chin on his hands. He studied Draco carefully. The trained Auror in him took in every detail of the gorgeous and well-groomed bastard. Meanwhile, his inner perpetually horny teenager noticed that Draco was looking better than ever.

“But we were only 16,” Harry pointed out.

“I remember,” Draco muttered petulantly.

Behind him, even the Head Auror had emerged from his office to peer curiously into Harry's. Harry sighed.

“Look, obviously we can't talk about this here. So, er...” He sighed again, grabbed a spare scrap of parchment, and scribbled on it. “Apparate to these coordinates at half seven. We'll talk then.”

Draco leaned over Harry's desk a bit farther, his glare darkening. “What's there to talk about? All you need to do is summon the necessary paperwork, fill it out with me, and then we both sign it and have my lawyers file it so that it's official.”

For possibly the first time in his life, Harry was able to smirk smugly at Draco. “As I said, we'll talk tonight.”

Draco withdrew his wand and pointed it at Harry. “You complete bastard! You unmitigated arse! You  _bloody_ –” Draco was too angry at this point to come up with another adjective and made a long string of choked sounds.

Harry laughed in obvious delight. “Careful, Malfoy. You are dangerously close to breaking the law.”

“ARGH!” Draco roared, the fingers of his left hand curling as if he longed to strangle Harry.

“And in the middle of Auror Headquarters, no less,” Harry added with a gleeful grin.

“ _Fine_...” Draco ground out in a low growl. He snatched his highly wrinkled copy of their marriage certificate, snatched the scrap Harry held out, and then spun around so that he could storm out of the office. A long string of grumbled non-magical curse words emerged from his lips as he went. Once again, most of the Aurors unconsciously stepped back before remembering that they shouldn't do so in front of such an infamous former Death Eater.

As Draco left, he heard Harry laughing. Oh the gall! If he wouldn't immediately be thrown in Azkaban, he'd turn around and cast an Unforgivable or two!

Less than twenty minutes later, Draco reached the nearest Apparation point and returned home. To his relief, the Greengrasses had left. Even better, the lawyers were still trying to explain how the law in Scotland applied to their underage (at the time) son.

Draco accepted a cup of tea from a house elf and downed it before throwing the cup across the room with a less than satisfying result. He pointed at the senior lawyer.

“If he refuses to divorce me, how do I force him? Or better yet, can it be annulled?”

“It can only be annulled if it wasn't consummated.” 

Draco looked away to cover a light blush. “Fine, then how can I obtain a divorce if he is unwilling?”

“Is he?”

“I don't know. He wouldn't answer me when I asked and insists that we get together to talk about it tonight,” Draco explained. “I just want to be prepared for anything.”

“Well, there are many reasons in which the Wizengamot might grant a divorce when only one of the parties wants it, however...”

Draco sighed dejectedly and ran a hand through his hair. “Not a single one of them is likely to side with me against Harry bloody Potter.”

Narcissa gasped incredulously while Lucius sounded like he was choking on an accidentally swallowed chicken bone. Narcissa recovered first, but still sounded rather breathless.

“You've been married to Harry Potter for _nine years_?!”

“Apparently,” Draco muttered with a hint of snark.

Their lawyers were whispering to each other, but now, the junior partner cleared his throat. “If Mr. Potter drags the process out past your tenth anniversary, he'll be entitled to half of your inheritance. Considering that there was no prenuptial agreement, he's already entitled to quite a bit, but even with a prenuptial agreement, ten years marks when most restrictions end.”

The senior partner took over. “Thus, if he truly is reluctant to agree to a divorce  _now,_ maybe he simply wants to wait until he can get the most out of you.”

Draco gave them a look that let them know he was wondering how stupid they were. “This is Harry Potter we're talking about. Mr. heroic Gryffindor himself. Sole owner of both the Potter and the Black fortune. Do you  _really_ think he wants  _money_ from me?”

The lawyers looked genuinely baffled. “What else is there?”

Draco sighed in frustration. “I don't know. And that's what worries me.”

 

***

 

Draco fussed over his appearance nervously. He was wearing a bespoke casual suit in navy blue and was about to meet up with Harry. Now that he was much calmer, he had the presence of mind to realize that he had severely over reacted earlier. Worse! He knew that if he wanted Harry to cooperate, he'd have to bite his tongue and basically agree with Harry on everything.

The mere thought made bile rise unpleasantly, but Draco swallowed it back down. After deciding he looked perfect, he spent a long moment wondering why he was so concerned with how he looked for Harry. Then he shoved that line of thought out of his mind and took a deep breath. When ready, he Apparated to the specified coordinates.

He looked around the empty lot in confusion. A moment later, Harry emerged from what had to be a powerful ward. Then he handed Draco a piece of paper.

“Look that over,” Harry insisted.

_Number 12 Grimmauld Place._

Draco quirked a brow in minor confusion for a moment before noticing an entire house squeeze itself into existence before him.

“Ah,” Draco murmured in understanding. “A Fidelius Charm.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, Harry beckoned Draco to follow him. Just inside the entrance, Harry waved his hand to indicate Draco.

“As promised, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, meet Walburga Black.”

“Draco!” The portrait positively purred in delight. “At long last, the true Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black!”

Draco hadn't been expecting this at all and was taken aback. “Er... Hello...”

“After you are done with whatever repulsive business you have with this vile and horrid little defeater of our beloved Lord, please ask Kreacher for a cup of tea and sit down for a little chat. I'd _love_ to know how my darling Narcissa is doing these days.”

Draco was still a bit flustered. “Er... She's well, thank you. I'll tell her that you were asking after her.” He thanked his lucky constellation that good manners were such a deeply ingrained habit that he didn't need to think about them.

Walburga nodded at him regally.

“Am I free to leave your exalted presence?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“You may, you filthy little cretin,” Walburga permitted with her nose in the air.

“Love you too, you nasty old hag,” Harry muttered with a strange expression.

“I keep telling you, I will not be won over by flattery,” Walburga stated haughtily, although clearly, she had been since she let the tiniest hint of a fond smile twist her lips.

Rolling his eyes, Harry led Draco into a cozy parlor. Still not quite sure what to make of the exchange with the portrait – he was strangely tempted to apologize on behalf of his deceased great aunt – Draco took a moment to look around. To his surprise, there was an ornately carved antique round table big enough to seat four people set up off to the side; in front of floor-to-ceiling windows that let in a gorgeous view of the sun – which had just decided to begin the process of setting.

Draco pursed his lips as he wondered if Harry had chosen this time and place simply to take advantage of this; as if Harry felt the sun rose and set around him. He honestly wouldn't put it past him.

As for the reason he was surprised by the table, it was set for two. There were two polished silver domes surrounded by enough gleaming silverware for three courses and the appropriate amount of glass goblets for a formal dinner. He narrowed his eyes and gave Harry a suspicious look.

Harry chuckled. “Try not to read too much into it. I needed to eat and once I mentioned to Kreacher that I was going to have company, he assumed that I meant  _for dinner_ and promptly made a minor feast. I didn't really have the heart to try and stop him.”

Harry then gestured for Draco to pick a seat. Draco decided to throw his well-bred manners away for a moment and rudely scan everything for poison or other undesirable additions. Finding everything clean, Draco picked the seat that was slightly closer to the exit.

The moment they took their seats, Kreacher popped in. He was holding a bottle of wine. Not just  _any_ wine, but a bottle of Blackberry wine that was actually rather famous and rare because it was made by the Black family at least 50 years ago – depending on the vintage – before other things distracted them from their delicious hobby. There were still a few bottles in the Malfoy wine cellar that his mother would pull out from time to time to celebrate special occasions, so he'd had the pleasure and would very much like to have it again.

This thought made him smirk from the unintended innuendo. He chuckled. “Why Potter, you seem to have a habit of plying me with the best expensive liquor. Last time, it led to our current predicament – what are you hoping it will lead to this time?”

Harry actually blushed a little. “No plans, although I suppose I wouldn't be too terribly disappointed if this time ended similarly to last time.”

Draco chuckled again. “So sorry, we can only get married once.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ever heard of vow renewal?”

Draco wasn't quite sure how to take that. “Er... Are you proposing?”

It was Harry's turn to chuckle. “No! Just pointing out that it actually is possible to get married more than once, and that if it happened now, it wouldn't exactly change anything.”

Draco decided to take Harry literally rather than dwell on all the potential subtext. If Harry had been a Slytherin, this would definitely be a hint and flirting and subtle negotiation all in one neat package, but he doubted that a Gryffindor would be capable of such a thing. Thus, Harry probably meant exactly what he said.

Once again, he relied on the habit of manners by focusing on the clam and bacon chowder held in perfect stasis under the dome. It and the wine were good indicators that Kreacher was a talented house elf. Which made Draco wonder why Harry seemed to be nervous.

“Delicious,” Draco pronounced – both politely and honestly.

Harry smiled in relief. They ate in mildly awkward silence for a few minutes before Harry cleared his throat.

“I, er... I don't want to get divorced.”

Draco pressed his lips together and took deep breaths to control his urge to start shouting obscenities. “Look, Potter, I'm engaged to be married and I need you to grant me a divorce.”

“Oh, erm... Who are you engaged to?” Harry wondered, sounding... guarded. Careful. The complete opposite of a brash Gryffindor.

“Astoria Greengrass,” Draco answered with a hint of a fond smile.

“Oh? Why her?” Harry asked, sounding curious more than anything now.

“Because she is a lovely woman who will make a wonderful mother to our children,” Draco informed him.

Harry tilted his head and gave Draco a piercing look. “Is that all?”

“What other reason is there?” Draco asked in confusion.

“Love,” Harry suggested with a shrug.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don't you know? Love is something that is nearly inevitable once a couple gets married. If it weren't, the human race would have died out long ago since couples have only been allowed to marry for so-called love for a little more than a hundred years now.”

Harry mulled this over for a moment. “So... you are reasonably certain that you  _will_ love her once you're married.”

“Of course,” Draco stated a bit arrogantly. “I wouldn't agree otherwise.” He took a sip of his excellent wine. “As I said, Astoria is a lovely woman – kind and caring. She has an interesting sense of humor and has agreed that our children should be raised to care less about –” Draco abruptly pressed his lips together for a moment, and then sighed. “Blood purity.”

“Really?” Harry asked in fascination. “I wouldn't have expected that from you.”

Draco growled very softly. “Yeah, well I learned the hard way that having rigid ideas on the subject is a terrible idea.”

“Yes, I suppose you did,” Harry admitted softly.

“So, if you would kindly come to the Manor tomorrow at – say – eleven in the morning, we can sign the divorce papers over tea, and then go another nine years without seeing each other,” Draco proposed, hoping that Harry could now see why his cooperation was necessary.

“No,” Harry stated flatly.

“What?” Draco asked, positive that he couldn't have heard that right.

“As I said before, I don't want to get divorced,” Harry explained.

“But... you didn't even know that we were married,” Draco reminded him. “Why...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish that question.

Harry bit his lip for a moment, and then sighed as if surrendering. He cast a quick summoning charm, and when what looked to be a small portrait flew into the room, caught it as if he was a professional Seeker. He gazed fondly at it for a long moment.

“I charmed this so that if anyone saw it, it would look like an empty frame, but I've had it hanging on the wall in my bedroom since shortly after I moved in here,” Harry told Draco, and then handed the frame over.

Draco's hands shook as he realized that he held the original copy of their marriage certificate. It had been crumpled when shoved in Harry's back pocket, but then obviously pressed and possibly charmed to remove as many wrinkles as possible at some point. The frame wasn't even dusty, which meant that it was tended to often – although that was most likely due to a competent house elf.

“You kept this?” Draco asked, disconcerted to realize that he was nearly whispering and his voice was rather shaky.

Harry shrugged. “I know you said that it wasn't valid, but...”

When the silence stretched out until nearly the end of time, Draco frowned. “But what?” He asked impatiently.

Harry looked at his plate – which had just been switched by Kreacher from the soup bowl to lamb chops on a bed of tenderly steamed veggies dripping in butter. His right hand nervously picked at the immaculate green table cloth. Then he visibly gathered up his Gryffindor courage.

“You're going to think this is stupid,” Harry muttered. “But maybe because I didn't have parents or maybe because my aunt and uncle – I don't know! Anyway, I used to occasionally lay in my bed in my dorm and think about my future. About what my life might be like if I managed to survive all of Voldemort's attempts to murder me. In every scenario, I pictured myself married with kids. The person I was married to changed on occasion – first Cho, then Ginny, then...”

Harry shrugged again and pressed on. “But what never changed was how I saved myself for marriage. How I was faithful to my spouse. How I... I promised myself that if I ever did actually get married, I'd only do it once. That I'd do whatever it takes to make my spouse happy so that divorce was never an option.”

Harry still wouldn't look at Draco. Instead, he sighed rather morosely. “I stupidly framed that because I liked to pretend that it was real. That one day, you'd realize that it happened for a reason and come ask for an opportunity to change it from a drunken mistake into an actual marriage...”

Having said his piece, Harry ran his hand through his hair and fell silent. Draco was also silent for a long moment – reeling from shock that Harry had basically just admitted that since he'd saved himself for marriage, he'd been a virgin at the time. And the true irony was that since the marriage was real, Harry hadn't gone against his beliefs even though Draco had unknowingly told him that he had.

He sort of felt a tiny bit guilty but pushed it away so that he could stop obsessing over it and steer the conversation back to more important things.

“Look, obviously that's not going to happen,” Draco pointed out. “So, will you please tell me what it will take for you to agree to a divorce?”

Harry was now looking at his thumbs, which were in his lap and sort of picking at each other. “I...” he faltered and then once more visibly gathered up his courage. Draco was startled to be pierced by those vivid green jewels. “I can't.”

“Pardon?” Draco inquired, flustered again.

“I can't go against my beliefs and agree to a divorce. At least not without a fight,” Harry informed him fiercely.

It was Draco's turn to let out a heavy sigh. “Listen, we both know what happens when we fight. So let's just skip all the potential murder and agree to part amicably.”

“No.”

“ _Potter_ –”

“No!” Harry half shouted this time. “I am not going to just give up!”

“Then what in the ever loving hell do you suggest we do?!” Draco roared in frustration.

“I don't know!” Harry roared in return. “Just... what if we gave it a try?”

This had the very rare effect of making Draco speechless for a few seconds. Then he started stuttering until he remembered how to form words. “You want to what?”

Harry sighed in frustration and gave Draco a look that wondered if he was being obtuse on purpose. “Give our marriage an honest try.”

“But...” Draco faltered, mentally coming up with a list of reasons why this was a bad idea. He settled for the one that _might_ have a sliver of a chance at making Harry see reason. “I'm engaged to be married. I need this divorce so that I can proceed with my wedding plans.”

An oddly cold aura settled over Harry. “Too bad. I won't agree until I know for certain that there's no hope for this marriage, and I'm not going to accept anything less than an honest try that just doesn't work out.”

Draco rubbed his left temple to ward off an oncoming headache. “I was hoping that you'd be reasonable and agree, but it looks like I'm just going to have to do this the hard way.”

“Hard way?” Harry wondered with a wary expression.

“My lawyers assure me that since we were both 16 and didn't realize what we were doing – and in fact assumed that it wasn't valid and went our separate ways for nearly a decade – that it will be a relatively simple matter of filing the paperwork for divorce and waiting for a member of the Wizengamot to sign off on it.” In point of fact, this was a bald lie, but Harry didn't need to know it.

“Which member?” Harry asked shrewdly.

Draco frowned almost petulantly. “Does it matter?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe not, but nearly all of them owe me a favor. Do you think I could have one dismiss the request? Or maybe I could have one make a stipulation of my potential cooperation that you have to... hmm... Live with me? For... six months?”

Draco sighed and rested his forehead on the palm of his hand. He had been  _really_ hoping that Harry wouldn't have enough political savvy to see that as a possibility. He had really  _really_ been hoping that the mere mention of the Wizengamot would make Harry see that it was in everyone's best interest for him to just give in and sign the damn divorce papers.

“Fine... I'll talk with my parents and Astoria and see what they have to say,” Draco grumbled. He now rubbed both his temples for a few seconds before wiping a hand over his face – a sort of physical cue to compose himself.

When he felt a microscopic spec better, he looked up at Harry again. “In the interest of... _potentially_ giving this an honest try – as you want – will you tell me how many boyfriends, girlfriends, or other bed partners you've had in the past nine years?” Because if the answer was none, Draco was just going to commit suicide and save the sodding Savior from some very twisted and self-sacrificing beliefs.

“Ginny mostly,” Harry admitted quietly. “She still hopes that we'll get married one day, but I think she is far happier playing Quidditch for the time being. Other than that, no real boyfriends or girlfriends. I've had enough one offs that I don't think I could give an accurate number, and I've – on the rare occasion – had muggle lovers invite me to stay for a few weeks, but nothing serious.”

Draco tilted his head side to side in a silent admission that it was pretty much the same for him. Then he downed the last of the wine in his glass. “As I said, I'm going to talk this over – I'll owl you when... Well, when I know something.”

Harry stood up when Draco did, his expression rather solemn. “Alright, just... Is the thought of being married to me really so bad?”

Draco tilted his head to the side and stared at Harry as if he had just grown two extra heads and spoke in Gobbledygook. “Er...” He frowned. “It's not... not  _that_ . As I said, I believe that I would eventually fall in love with my spouse no matter who I married. It's just that I have very clear plans for my future, and I am  _very_ invested in those plans.”

“What's so important about your plans?” Harry wondered.

“Er...” Draco mentally scrolled through a list. Married. Heir. Huh... It was a shockingly short list. And the importance was self explanatory. 

He sighed. “I'm obviously too exhausted to do that justice. Now, can I Disapparate from here, or do I need to leave the wards first?”

Harry decided not to push his luck by pressing Draco for an answer. He gave a half shrug. “Now that you know the secret, you're allowed to Apparate in and out as you like.”

Draco pursed his lips, not entirely comfortable with being trusted with unrestricted access to Harry's house like this. “Alright. Then... Good night, Potter.”

“Harry...”

Draco pressed his lips together for a moment, and then sighed. “Good night... Harry...”

Harry smiled at him – only a hint of triumph bleeding through. “Good night, Draco.”

Before anything could stop him, Draco Disapparated.

 

***

 

As it happens rather frequently for Harry, fate procured Hermione just when he needed her. She Apparated into his bedroom just as he was putting the frame containing his marriage certificate in its rightful place on the wall. Aside from the familiar soft crack, he had no indication that anyone had arrived. Thus, he was too preoccupied to really notice his friend.

She watched him adjust the frame just so and give it a good polish before stepping back to gaze at it meditatively. This was something she caught him doing once a year or so, but had always tactfully avoided mentioning it. Until now.

“I've been meaning to ask, Harry, why do you have an empty frame on your wall?”

Harry wasn't really startled since his friends had unrestricted access to his house and often Apparated in at random. He turned to look at her. Something in his expression made her frown in concern.

“Harry?”

“Can you promise not to get mad at me?” Harry asked.

“For what?” Hermione inquired in concern.

“For keeping a secret,” he murmured. “I didn't think it was something I needed to tell anyone since – at first and for a long time – it was just the story of how I lost my virginity. But now, I found out that it's... _real_...”

Hermione could sense his heartache, and so stepped closer to him so that she could rub his back. “What's real?”

Harry pointed at the empty frame, and then cast an incantation to end the spell on it. Hermione glanced at it curiously for a moment before actually reading it. Then she gasped.

“Harry!”

Harry found himself being suddenly scrutinized by the soft brown eyes of his best friend in the world – aside from Ron. He sat on the edge of his bed with a sigh. His elbows rested on his thighs and his hands dangled between his legs as he hunched over.

“So, when I was still sixteen, near the end of Sixth Year, just after I'd nearly murdered Draco but before I started going out with Ginny, I decided to try to apologize. After buying an expensive bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy, I noticed Draco walking alone by the lake on my map and rushed to corner him before he returned to his dorm.

“To my surprise, he accepted the brandy, and then we got thoroughly drunk. I don't exactly remember all the details, but at some point, we decided to sneak away from Hogwarts. Much later on, I sobered up enough to realize that I was shagging him, and that I really liked it. That part in and of itself was quite a big shock,” Harry admitted with a wry smile.

“I can imagine,” Hermione murmured with a soft chuckle. She'd long known that Harry was bisexual, but he hadn't quite figured that out until after the war. Thus, drunken gay sex must have been a huge surprise.

With a fond smile and a faraway look, Harry continued. “I'm rather glad that I sobered up enough by the end because it was a night worth remembering. By that, I mean that even if it hadn't been my first time, it was good enough that I'd seriously miss the memory of it if I didn't have it.”

Hermione rubbed his back again. “Good for you. My first time was rather awkward and brilliant, so I can understand cherishing the memory – even if you were probably extremely confused by it as well.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Anyway, the next morning when we woke up, we discovered that we'd somehow made our way to a town called Gretna Green and...” he chuckled almost nervously as he pointed to the certificate on his wall. “Eloped.”

Hermione pulled his head so that it rested on her bosom. She then carded her fingers through his hair. “Another big shock, I'm sure.”

“Quite!” Harry laughed, snuggling into her comforting warmth. Then he shrugged. “But Draco said that it wasn't valid because it was a muggle ceremony and we were wizards. I had no reason to doubt him, so...” he waved his hands around as if asking what else could he have done.

“So you returned to the castle and basically put it from your mind,” she said for him. He nodded in confirmation. Then he sighed and hugged her tight for a moment.

“But then he showed up in my office today in a glorious fury because he'd just found out that it actually is legally valid,” Harry finished up his explanation. Another soft crack sounded in the background, but neither paid it much attention. “So, we're married.”

“And you don't want me to tell anyone,” Hermione stated more than asked.

“Actually, I wouldn't mind announcing it in the paper,” Harry admitted. 

“But what would people say?” Hermione blurted out. “You're supposed to marry Ginny, although I can see how that would be problematic all considering.” She gave him a light smooch.

He snuggled into her just a bit more. “Married. I always wanted to be married.”

Soft growling alerted them to the person lurking in the bedroom doorway.

“Ron!” They both exclaimed in surprise, wondering why he had his arms crossed over his chest and looked ready to murder them both. 

Hermione beckoned for him to come closer with the hand that wasn't playing with Harry's hair. “There's something you need to know.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Ron ground out. “You're _married_...”

Harry and Hermione both tilted their heads in confusion for a moment before Harry cottoned on and burst out laughing. It was this that tipped Hermione off. She promptly spluttered.

“Wait! You think that _we_...” she trailed off as she gestured back and forth between herself and Harry. Then she snorted in amusement. “Oh _Ron_!”

“It's not funny!” Ron shouted furiously.

Hermione promptly stood up and held out her hands soothingly. “No. If you were right, it would be very not funny.”

“But since you're wrong, it's hilarious!” Harry added, still snickering.

“I'm – what?” Ron asked in confusion.

Harry pointed at the frame on his wall. “See for yourself.”

Ron had to read the certificate at least half a dozen times before it made even an iota of sense. Then, he shook his head and tried again. “Mate, this empty frame has been charmed to tell people the barmiest thing possible!”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, I suppose me being married to Malfoy is just about the barmiest thing anyone could think of!”

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron. “Here, let's go make a cup of tea. I have a feeling we  _all_ need it!”

 

***

 

For the first half an hour, the Malfoys and Astoria sipped their tea and made idle small talk. Then Draco succinctly explained what Harry wanted. When he was finished, Astoria looked pensive.

“May I ask why you married him in the first place?”

Draco flushed lightly. “I actually don't remember that part very clearly. Just something about our hands on an anvil. We were drunk and 16, I daresay that there probably wasn't too much thinking going on.”

“Well, why were you drinking with him in the first place?” Astoria wondered.

Draco eyed his parents for a moment. He was relieved that they seemed to be handling the situation with aplomb so far, however...

“You were two years behind me,” Draco began. “So you might not, but do you remember when I was nearly murdered in the bathroom?”

Even as Astoria answered yes, his parents gasped in alarm.

Draco glanced at his father and muttered: “You were in Azkaban at the time, and I wouldn't let Snape tell the truth to anyone that he didn't absolutely have to about what happened because I didn't want the Dark Lord to use it as proof that I wasn't able to do the task he assigned me.” He glanced at his mother. “And then I never wanted to upset you with the knowledge that I nearly died at sixteen –  _would have_ had Snape not arrive exactly then and saved me.”

He returned his attention to Astoria before his parents could chastise him for keeping such a big secret from them. “Anyway, he wanted to apologize and gave me a rather big bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy. Since I was more or less inclined to believe that he was sincere, we shared a few drinks. Unfortunately, brandy aged at least 150 years is quite a bit stronger than I anticipated, and we both –”

Astoria interrupted him with a giggle. “Found yourselves utterly sloshed in no time at all!”

Draco nodded in agreement. “I vaguely remember wanting to bring him somewhere secluded so that I could beat him at a Seekers' game, but I honestly have no idea how we got away from school grounds. I actually have no idea how we got back into the castle the next morning either because Potter cast a blinding spell on me after I'd Apparated us into Hogsmeade. All I know is that there is a secret passage somewhere.”

Astoria was still giggling, but she nodded her head in understanding that the events of the night – so far as Draco could remember them – were: Accept apology, get blind drunk, sneak out of school, somehow elope, wake up (likely hung over) the next morning, decide that it wasn't true, and then sneak back into school while actually blind but no longer drunk. After a sip of tea, she set her cup aside and gave Draco a soft smile.

“Alright, as the situation stands, you are married to Harry Potter and he refuses to get divorced unless you give it an honest try and the marriage fails,” she summed up. Then she gave an elegant half shrug. “So, why not give him what he wants?”

Draco gaped at her in surprise for a moment. “What?”

“It's more than likely the only way to proceed at this point,” she stated pragmatically. “If you don't, he's just going to keep fighting you until you do. So that really only leaves one option. Make him believe that you are giving him your best effort.”

Draco furrowed his brows, not quite liking the suggestion. “That's not a good idea. If I actually make him believe I'm putting real effort into the marriage, then he may never feel like the marriage is failing enough to justify a divorce. On the other hand, if I don't put in enough effort, he will likely stubbornly refuse until the end of time just to spite me.”

Rather than stump Astoria, this made her smile all the brighter. “Well, then there are only two possible outcomes to this demand of his: It works in his favor, or it works in yours.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked in confusion.

“I mean that if you give Harry what he wants, he will either prove to you that your marriage works or you'll prove to him that it doesn't. In the second scenario, we resume our plans to get married. In the first...” she stood up and walked around the table to kiss him on the cheek. “You'll be happily married. It's practically the definition of a win win situation for you.” She patted his cheek tenderly. “Now, if you don't mind, I have an appointment for a fitting on the dress I plan to wear to the Ministry Ball.”

“Of course,” Draco murmured, watching in confusion as she left the room.

His mother delicately cleared her throat. “I daresay that she's right...” His father didn't look happy, but he also couldn't argue.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still trying to decide how angsty and or fluffy I want the next part, so it might take a few days to write :-)


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